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The online diary of an ethical pervert.

Friday, 26 June 2009


I'm in the gym. It's become a new pastime to peruse the bodies of fellow masochists and wonder what they might be like in bed. Is he a pervert? Is she? Are they? It's similar to the game that I play on the tube only at least here there is the definite knowledge that we share a certain attitude toward the body. To our bodies. Whether it is about the way they look, their strength, the control we can exert over them, the way it makes us feel. We're kinky for it.

Aside from my permanent preoccupation with the shape and tone of men's arms and shoulders, there are plenty of distractions on offer which allow me to distance myself from the bad pop videos. The gym brings out the toppy side of me, it's possible that, high on endorphins and feeling powerful after running, my brain is ready to act in a dominant direction. Or it might simply be the smell of sweat and skin.

A man is on his knees, facing one of the machines, his taut bottom raised slightly and it is all I can do not to reach out and give him a gentle smack. I remind myself that this is neither the time nor the place and that I must wait until Friday night. He's heaving on the weight machine, pulling himself from an upright, kneeling position to prostrate bow. It looks good. He's also clearly straining against a lot of weight. That also looks good.

One man, looking a little like Heston-like, with shaved head and serious spectacles in engaged in a balancing game on three footballs. His feet rest together on one ball, each arm is stretched out as if to do a push up, each hand resting on another ball. He holds himself in place, I can see the twitches and flickers of his muscles as he makes the tiny little adjustments needed to keep still. I love acts of predicament, of willing oneself to do something, to avoid something else. The force and desire behind it. The look of pain that flits across his face. I smile to myself, as I picture him naked with a few lit candles underneath his stomach, or teasing him with a crop between his legs.

I'm thinking of starting to go three times a week as opposed to the usual two. It can't hurt.

1 comment:

Elle said...

Seen that way, I think I'd go too. Yumm!

I used to go to the gym but keeping the discipline has eluded me. Instead, we got an elliptical machine and I do a bit of a workout at home. Works better for me, but the view isn't nearly as interesting ;)